It was a VERY close call.
Last night, I came in from bridge and immediately got ready for dinner at a friends house (a superb roast pork).
I jumped into the shower, then realised, getting dressed, that all my clean underwear was in the family room where I’d been folding it earlier.
I was in a racy mood… had had a glass of wine after the game… and thought “bugger it! I won’t bother putting clothes on. I’ll just wander down the hall in the nicky noo… give Groover (watching telly) a thrill.
This is the view from my bedroom door… you can see I’m aiming for that dining table you can see at the far end. Groover was on the sofa in the lounge.
So I start walking along – I get to the raised part of the corridor and I’m doing the whole stripper routine… you know… post strip.
The full Leo Sayer moment.
And Groover looks up… grins… hesitates… and then says quietly “T’s here”.
T is Hugamuga’s scaly mate from school. 14. (Hi T)
I stop. My face blanches.
“Is he joking?” I wonder…
I decide discretion is the better part of valour and retreat into my bedroom and put on a dressing gown.
As I’m putting on the gown I’m thinking that Groover is winding me up and I should just go with plan A.
But with gown now covering up my bits I head down to pick up the grundies.
T is in fact here.
Sitting at the computer with Hugamuga.
Oh my freaking God!!!
How bad would that have been?!
Luckily his view was obscured by the printer.
Groover admitted this morning that he was tossing up whether to tell me about Hugamuga’s friend.
I put it to you that it would have been UNFORGIVABLE if he had not.
That is the test, my friends, of a good relationship.
Would you have warned your partner?